#sure gearbox let me have it

[sammyloomis]

gearbox will put out anything but a goddamn game

[tossball-stick]

as not great and ultimately good at best and queerbaiting at worst overwatch and borderlands' queer rep is. i cant deny that these characters are still core to my identity. i may not be a gay man anymore but soldier 76 overwatch is still a core part of me because of how i identified with him then. i may not be a lesbian later down the road but i imagine tracer will still stick with me because of how i see myself in her. it was still so so much better than growing up with nothing

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sisters

Irene Paredes x Teen!Reader

Summary: You and your sister's wife

"You know," You say, voice thick and rough with sleep," My sister will get annoyed if she catches you sleeping in my bed."

"Lucía sent me to get you."

"And you're doing that by getting in bed with me?"

You flutter your eyes open, rolling over until your face to face with your sister in law.

Irene looks down at you, a smile on her face as she reaches out to pinch your cheek.

You squawk at her, swatting her hand away with a little yelp. "Stop it! You're so mean!"

"And you slept past your alarm," Irene reminds you," You need to stop doing that."

"Who are you? My mum?"

Irene grins. "I mean, technically-"

You groan, pulling a pillow over your eyes to block her out.

With your parents failing health and your own dedications at La Masia, they had signed their rights away and transferred your custody to your sister, Lucía.

Irene had put her own name on the paperwork too - something about it running smoother if it was clear it would be a couple taking care of you and not just Lucía.

You feel a poke on your shoulder and you swat blindly at Irene.

"Leave me alone," You say," Why can't you just let me sleep?"

"Because we have training," She replies, continuing to poke you," And you take ages to get ready. You're worse than Mateo."

"Mateo's practically a baby," You say," If he takes long to get ready then it's Lucía's fault."

"What's your excuse then?"

You sit up, shrugging. "It's Lucía's fault. She got me ready as a kid too. She's the reason I take so long."

"Go and get dressed, hermana," Irene says with an eye roll," I'm leaving in ten so if you're not ready by then I'm leaving without you."

"No you won't!" You yell after her.

You don't think she will but you still rush to change just in case.

Irene's stood at the door when you get downstairs, throwing her keys up and down while Lucía bustles around the kitchen with Mateo.

"Kiss your sister goodbye," Irene teases as you scoop up your bag and approach.

You groan. "You're so annoying."

"I don't hear you telling your sister how much you love her."

You make sure to drag your feet all the way over to Lucía, pressing a kiss to her cheek before doing the same with little Mateo.

"Be good at practice," Lucía reminds you," And if Irene gets on your nerves, tell me and I'll keep her in line."

You grin against Lucía's shoulder. "She's not all bad."

"Don't tell her that. She's already got a big head. Don't make it get bigger."

"I'll try."

"Let's go," Irene says, getting a bit impatient and you pull away from your sister.

"You're the one that made me say goodbye."

"Oh? So it's my fault?"

You pretend to think. "Yes. Yes it is."

Irene rolls her eyes fondly as an arm is thrown over your shoulder. "Love you Lucía, love you, Mateo! I promise I won't kill your sister!"

The car ride is an easy one, familiar.

You'd signed your first professional contract with Barcelona in the summer, rising through the ranks of La Masia before taking your place as one of the new centrebacks Barcelona signed for the new season.

"You nervous?" Irene's eyes are on the road as she speaks.

You rolls your eyes and scoff," No."

It's a complete lie and you think Irene knows that because one hand leaves the gearbox to gently rub your shoulder.

It's a little annoying how good she is at doing it while she's driving.

"You're going to do great," She soothes, the same voice she uses when Lucía is anxious and Mateo is crying," It's going to go so well for you. Everyone's friendly and no one is going to make fun of you."

You stare out the window. "You don't know that."

"Tell me if they do." She's gone serious now, pulling into a line of traffic and turning to look at you. "I know you like to solve things yourself but I'm serious. If anyone says anything or they make you uncomfortable, you come and get me."

"I know, Irene," You reply," You've been saying that kind of stuff for years."

She grins at you. "Just making sure you remember. No one is going to be mean to you but just in case."

"You're not going to hover, are you? Because I'll tell Lucía. She says you need to stop that."

"Lucía's not the boss of me."

You both exchange looks before bursting into laughter.

"Yes, she is."

Irene rolls her eyes. "Fine. I won't hover if you tell me if someone's making you uncomfortable. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Good." She looks back the queue in front of her. "Now what do you want from the drive through?

You frown. "Lucía said last night we weren't allowed to get breakfast from the drive through."

Irene winks. "I won't tell if you won't."

[redocity]

Buck teaching his gf how to drive a car since she only has her motorcycle license bur he's scared she's gonna grind the gearbox too hard in his jeep so they borrow Eddie's car?

AUTOMATIC DRIVE — E.BUCKLEY

after half a decade of motorcycle driving, you want to actually learn to drive a car. buck thinks an automatic drive is your best option.

evan buckley x fem!reader | 1.1k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n— the default in the uk is a manual car (they call it a stick shift in the us right?) and let me tell you, i wish i learned in an automatic it would’ve saved me so much grief

It was a warm Saturday afternoon, the kind of day perfect for a drive around the city.

Except for the fact that you were about to learn how to drive a car for the first time.

Sure, you had your motorcycle license and had been riding for years, but cars? Whole different story. And Buck, bless him, was trying his best to be supportive.

"You'll do great," Buck said, offering you a reassuring smile as you both stood next to his beloved Jeep.

You gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. "You sure? You were just muttering about the gearbox under your breath like two minutes ago,"

Buck winced slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, well, my Jeep is… special. It’s been through a lot, you know? The wildfires, rescues, that time it got stuck in the sand dunes—"

"I get it, Buck. Your Jeep’s your baby, I don't want to ruin it," you said, trying to keep from laughing at the anxiety creeping into his voice. “I don’t really need to be able to drive a car anyway—”

“No, no, you wanna learn to drive, you’re gonna learn to drive,” He sighed, looking between you and the Jeep, then pulled out his phone. "How about we call in a favour?"

—

Fifteen minutes later, Eddie rolled up, leaning out of the window of his family SUV with a raised eyebrow. “So, you’re trusting me with this? Or am I trusting you with my car?”

Buck laughed, walking over to greet him. “We’re trusting her with your car. I thought mine would be a little too, uh… temperamental for a first-time driver.”

Eddie glanced at you, a smirk playing at his lips. “Right. And you think my car’s gonna survive?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a grin tugging at your lips. “I promise not to grind the gears off your car, Eddie. I’ve been riding motorcycles for years—I think I can handle a sedan.”

Eddie chuckled and tossed Buck the keys. “It’s automatic, so there’s no gears to be grinded. Plus, you’d have to try pretty hard to kill the engine on accident.”

Buck let out a visible sigh of relief. “Thanks, man. You’re saving me a lot of stress right now.”

“Yeah, well, you owe me one. If my car comes back with any dents, you’re on babysitting duty for a month,” Eddie called out, as he climbed out of the car. “Also, I’m borrowing your Jeep,”

“Yep— Shoulda seen that coming—”

—

You slid into the driver’s seat of Eddie’s car, feeling a little out of place compared to your usual motorcycle stance. Buck was in the passenger seat, hands already on his knees, clearly trying to keep calm.

"Okay," Buck said, his voice calm but a little tight. "First, adjust your seat and mirrors."

You grinned at him. "I know that much, Buck."

“Right, right. Just… making sure.” He took a deep breath, his hand hovering near the dashboard. “Okay, now foot on the brake and shift into drive. And, uh, easy on the gas, alright? It’s not like your bike.”

“Easy on the gas. Got it.” You followed his instructions, shifting into drive and slowly pressing on the pedal. The car began to roll forward, and you felt a little rush of excitement. “Look, I’m doing it!”

“Yup! Doing great,” Buck said, his voice pitched just a little too high. His hand was now gripping the side of his seat, knuckles white.

You turned the wheel gently to navigate the quiet streets around the neighborhood, keeping your speed at a comfortable pace. Everything was smooth for a few blocks, and Buck’s tension seemed to ease.

“This isn’t so bad,” you said confidently. “It’s actually kind of like riding, just with more—”

Suddenly, a squirrel darted across the road.

“Brake! Brake!” Buck yelled, his arm instinctively shooting out in front of you as if to shield you from some invisible impact and his foot pushed into the floor like he had a phantom brake pedal of his own.

You slammed on the brake, and the car jerked to a hard stop. Both of you lurched forward slightly in your seats, but the squirrel scampered off unharmed.

There was a moment of silence, both of you staring out at the now-empty road. Then, you burst out laughing, the adrenaline turning into a kind of giddy relief.

“Are you okay?” you asked between giggles, glancing over at Buck.

He had his head in his hands, but he was smiling, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh… maybe a little traumatised.”

You grinned. “Come on, I didn’t even hit it! I’m doing great!”

Buck leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath. “Okay, okay. You’re right. Just… maybe next time, we ease into the brake a little slower?”

You nodded, still grinning. “You got it. No more squirrel-slamming.”

—

A little while later, after a few more practice rounds of smooth turns and gentle braking, you pulled the car into Eddie’s drive, parking it with as much precision as you could manage. It wasn’t great.

Buck let out a long sigh of relief as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“Yeah, you seemed totally calm,” you teased, nudging him as you stepped out of the car.

Eddie emerged from the house, taking his keys back with a grin. “No dents. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks for letting me borrow it,”

Eddie waved it off, though he shot Buck a knowing look. “No problem. Just remember, Buck, if I ever need backup with Christopher or you’re feeling brave enough to return the favour… you owe me.”

Buck groaned, but he was smiling. “Fine, fine. Babysitting in exchange for not destroying your car. Deal.”

As you walked back toward Buck’s Jeep, you slipped your arm through his. “So, what do you think? Did I pass your driving test?”

Buck grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “With flying colours. I just might need a drink after this to calm my nerves.”

You laughed, squeezing his arm. “Deal! I’ll drive us there.”

Buck froze, eyes wide in mock terror. “Uh, maybe I’ll handle that part…”

[sadgi]

compiling information about the kineema, because I'm normal

hi. you may remember me from this post talking about how the kineema doesn't have a hood. I've decided to compile all the *other* info I can get on the kineema and comment on it. hopefully this is okay to read

---

let's start with what I could find on fayde

INTERFACING - With its air-cooled, rear-mounted twelve cylinder compression ignition engine driving the rear wheels through a four-speed manual gearbox, the Kineema is able to reach 100 kilometres per hour in 13.5 seconds. And go on to a top speed of 180 kilometres an hour. YOU - Won't it roll over in the first sharp corner? INTERFACING - The high centre of balance is offset by a large battery bank mounted at the bottom of the cabin, feeding all the auxiliary systems and making the Kineema effectively a mobile power plant.

air-cooled: no radiator. I assume this is what those big heat-sink looking things on sides of the engine are for

compression ignition engine: diesel, no spark plugs (diesel engines are named after a guy, rudolph diesel, so I guess in elysium they didn't do that)

rear wheel drive: this is pretty obvious just looking at the thing

100 kilometres per hour in 13.5 seconds: not very fast acceleration compared to modern cars, but the history of cars in elysium is obviously very different to irl

battery bank: this is the only thing keeping the kineema from tipping backwards onto its ass as soon as you accelerate

YOU - "What's it packing there?" (Point to the engine.) KIM KITSURAGI - "Hundred-and-thirty." INTERFACING - I reckon that's a seven-litre V12 there. ENCYCLOPEDIA - Man, that's got to be a major advancement over the KR18GU engine on the old Coupris 40. YOU - "Wait, hundred-and-thirty what?" KIM KITSURAGI - "Kilowatts," the lieutenant replies laconically.

130 kilowatts: ~174 horsepower

YOU - "That's what..." (Rub your chin.) "... a seven-litre V12?" KIM KITSURAGI - "Seven-point-two. Supercharged." The lieutenant is trying to suppress a smug smile. Unsuccessfully. EMPATHY - Saying these words brings him immense joy.

7.2 litre engine: space inside the cylinders. 7.2L/12 = 600cc per cylinder

supercharged: has a supercharger. forces more air into the engine, powered by the crankshaft (as opposed to turbochargers which are powered by the exhaust)

YOU - Run your fingers over one of the steering levers. COUPRIS KINEEMA - The white suede feels luxurious under the touch and the metal clutch handle so very familiar in your palm... INTERFACING - Your fingers waste no time closing around the handle. Clutch disengaged. Release the handle -- clutch drops -- right foot yearns for the familiar touch of the accelerator pedal. You have synced with the machine's mechanical circulation.

YOU - "A *driver* would wear down their right shoe before the left -- the accelerator is on the right. And remember that abandoned lorry cabin we found?"

steering levers: instead of a steering wheel. not exactly sure how they'd work. I *really* don't want it to have differential steering like a zero-turn mower looking at this video of kim driving it looks like the front wheels are the ones steering

clutch handle: instead of a pedal, the clutch is a handle on one of the levers. seems that accelerator and (probably) brake are still pedals

accelerator is on the right: does everyone left-foot brake??? I guess if the clutch handle is standard then that would make sense

ABANDONED LORRY - The glass on the side windows is tinted and covered with dust. You can barely make out the shape of a seat and two steering levers. [...] YOU - Check the pedals. ABANDONED LORRY - You wedge yourself under the steering-wheel to get a better look. Seems like the few tools lying around here -- a hammer, a pair of pliers, a rusty wrench -- have been casually thrown there by the disorganized driver. ABANDONED LORRY - But one odd detail does catch your eye: A piece of sandpaper has been glued to the throttle.

STEERING WHEEL TYPO

---

alright, let's actually take a look at this thing

two door: the kineema has a single driver's seat and two seats in the back. looks like you'd need to move the front seat forward to let anyone else in

suspension: the back wheels look like they have some sort of spring (the axle is connected to it, so how are the wheels being driven??? same with the coupris 40). I assume the front arms also act as a spring

rear view mirror: looks like there's no rear view mirror, since you wouldn't see shit

aerodynamics: bad

seat belts:

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton is interviewed during the press conference on media day [part 1/2], brazil - october 31, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "Why don't we start with the honorary citizen of Brazil? Lewis, you're back in a country you love, at a circuit you love, where you've had a lot of success in the past. Just how excited are you, ahead of this grand prix?" Lewis: "Good afternoon, everyone. I love coming here. I've been really excited about the trip and just getting back. Every opportunity I have to spend time here, you learn more about the culture, you are able to engage more. I know the Senna Foundation did an amazing event last night, with all the great work that they're doing. And it's just the colors, it's Ayrton, it's the culture, the people. So you really vibe off that through the whole weekend." Interviewer: "Lewis, you say it's Ayrton. There's a very special thng happening on Saturay evening here. You're gonna be driving his 1990 McLaren. How special is it for you to commemorate him here at Interlagos?" Lewis: "Well, I mean, every time we come here is an opportunity to do that, and I think so many of the drivers also do that. But I never in a million years thought I would get to drive Sanna's car here, so when… I remember someone contacted me… My manager told me about it, and I jumped at the opportunity. Back in the day when I was at McLaren I did get the chance to drive the MP4/4 around Silverstone, which was incredble, and… But just the thought of driving that car around here… I remember the races when he finally won here and held the flag, and yeah, it'll definitely be quite an emotional experience, and I hope people are here to see it. I had a helmet made with… Just his helmet, made for me, but I don't know if we're using that one tomorrow. But I think the initial hope was for it to be a suprrise. So I had an all-white suit and his helmet, and I'd go out and drive the lap and it would just look like it was him out there. But somehow it got out there and [laughs] it's impossible to keep things quiet." Interviewer: "Lewis, it's a manual gearbox. How's your heel-and-toe-ing these days?" Lewis: "I'm always heel-and-toe-ing, so… [laughs] No, it used to be really good when I was younger, and when I did the MP4/4 I was able to do it back then. Something I miss. I wish we had that in Formula 1. I mean, the two-pedal thing is just not exciting, and they need to bring back the HBOX. It was awesome." Interviewer: "Look, let's bring it back to Mercdes now, what's happening this weekend - a sprint weekend. It was the best combined performance for the team since the summer break, last weekend in Mexico. Just how confident are you of getting a good performance here?" Lewis: "'Confident.' I mean, it's been a very turbulent year. I think we always arrive with confidence and with a positive mental attitude, but the car is just… I don't know how… I'm sure it's similar for the other drivers, but there's glimpses of hope, and then things swing back and forth-whether it's tires, whether it's the aero-so you enver know what you're gonna get. I always feel like Forrest Gump when I say that. But then yeah, I'm hoping the car… The last race was really positive for us, in terms of the end result, but through the weekend was definitely… George's crash during the weekend, and then I started with a bad start of the race but then got better towards the end. So there's definitely potential within the car and we're always looking to just fine-tune it and hope we can extract more from it, and I'm hoping with the new surface here maybe we can have a better race."

[katyawriteswhump]

a deep and dreamless love (steddie love month, day 11)

For @steddielovemonth, day 11. 'Love is saving the last bite for them,' from (@acasualcrossfade) Thank you <3

Rating: M  WC: 1,630 CW: blood drinking and mild horror. Tags: Vampire au, vampire Eddie, angst and whump with fluffy softness!

…

“You sure you can make it home all right?” Robin climbed out of Steve’s car and paused at the driver’s window. “It’s awfully dark already.”

“It’s cloudy, Robin! Cloudy daylight fries vampires as good as any July scorcher. Now get inside. Before you have to run and fall on your face.”

“Low blow, Dingus.” She curled her lip, muffled her overlong woolly scarf tight beneath her chin. “You know you can always crash h—"

“Robin! If you don’t quit yammering, we’ll BOTH end up as vamp juice-boxes.”

“If we’re gonna play that game, Shit-bird, don’t catch sight of your stupid hair in the rear-view mirror and start fiddling. Don’t wanna find your shrivelled body with my mail.”

“Hilarious. Get inside. Please?”

Steve waited to check she was safe indoors before driving off. He felt bad for being extra cranky, because she was right. He was running late. Their boss had made them stay for extra cleaning at the store, and thick clouds brooded low across an already darkening sky. However, crashing with Robin wasn’t an option.

She was safe now.

Eddie needed him more.

He drove fast, burning rubber round the corners. Nobody enforced speeding laws in Hawkins these days, not this close to sundown. He was halfway home, when the engine spluttered. Then clonked. He hit the break, thrashed at the gearbox. The BMW choked pathetically and conked out completely.

“No.” Steve flicked the ignition key. Nothing. “You gotta be kidding.”

He jumped out, opened the hood. Oil, water. Is the battery disconnected? He could hardly see in the dim light, plus he’d little faith in his basic car maintenance skills. 

Especially with his damn stupid hands shaking. 

He slammed down the lid, sprinted the hundred yards back to the nearest phone booth. He fumbled a coin into the slot and dialled.

It rang. Once, twice, three times, four times. Steve pushed sweaty hair from his eyes. “C’mon, Eddie, pick up! I really don’t wanna die, 'cos you’re moshing to Van Halen.”

The rings finally cut off: “Munson Mansion.”

“What took you?” Now Steve spoke, he realised he was practically hyperventilating.  “I’m in serious shit. My car broke down.”

“Dammit, it’s dark already? Shiiiiit! Must’ve overslept. Okay, calm down.” Eddie sounded, if anything, even less calm than Steve. “Where are you?”

“C-corner of Mason and Sherman.”

“Hold tight, Sweetheart. I’m a comin’.”

Steve pulled the collar of his jacket up—redoubling the defences of the scarf he’d worn all day—and started swiftly back toward the car. The shadows of night slinked across the grey front lawns, swallowing up broken picket fences. 

Then swallowing up Steve. 

He considered running up a driveway, hammering on somebody’s door—a better option than hunkering down in the car, though only if someone let him in.

Too late.

A tall figure in a hoodie appeared as if from nowhere, and blocked Steve’s path. The vampire’s toothy grin flashed in the chilly twilight.

“It’s rude to sneak up on people." Steve squared his shoulders, battling to keep his voice low and steady. “You hear me, knucklehead?”

He reached into his jacket, gripping the wooden stake he always carried. Before he could line up any kind of aim, the vamp was on him, knocking the stake from his hand. He grabbed Steve by the front of his shirt, lifting him clean off the ground. Goddamn vampire super-strength! Steve kicked the bloodsucker on his leg. Hard. Son-of-a-bitch didn’t even lose his grip.

“Payback time, Harrington.”

“What the—”

Steve attempted a punch, which fell short. He then registered the face behind the leering fangs. It was a football player, who’d graduated a couple of years before Steve.

“Chad Lloyd? Seriously? You’re not still pissed about—”

“You kissed my girlfriend, douchebag.”

“I was lifeguarding! I had no idea she was fake drowning till she shoved her tongue into my mouth. Gimme a break.”

Chad beamed, cheesier than ever. “Oh, I’m gonna break you, Harrington. Before or after I drink you dry.”

“Look, if you wanna keep a date, you really need to work on your one lin—”

He hurled Steve to the ground. Steve landed with a bruising, stunning thud. Then the vamp was upon him, rolling him over, ripping off his scarf and pulling down his collar. Steve kicked and struggled, though he’d almost no hope of escape.

“Hey, what’s this?” Chad tore away the neat dressing tucked under the side of Steve’s chin. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that slutty Steve Harrington is someone’s sloppy seconds.”

No. Not there! Nobody else drinks from there!

He rammed his knee up into the vamp’s happy-sacks. Then shoved the tender side of his wrist—and that throbbing latticework of veins—right in the sucker’s face.

Chad snarled, grabbed Steve’s arm, hoisted the whole of Steve upright with it. His freshly erupted fangs ripped deep into Steve’s wrist, and he chugged greedily.

Steve’s vision spotted. The usual woolly, sicky feeling swelled in his guts, fogged his brain. He slumped, helpless and terrified, against the vampire. Who just kept drinking.

Okay… I screwed up… Screwed up bad... I always tried so damn hard to save myself for you... Miss you already, Babe… Oh, Jesus!

He was unsure if he heard the distant roar of a motorcycle engine. Could’ve been the fading thunder of his own blood. Then the whoosh of a crossbow bolt gashed into his waning consciousness. Once more, the sidewalk flew up to meet him. He’d a vague notion that the vamp fell too, smacking down beside him.

Eddie’s worried face filled his vision. His heart squeezed sluggishly, aching with love, and the world disintegrated to nothingness.

…

“Steve? C’mon. Wake up. Please wake up.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered open. “Huh?”

“You’re back!” Eddie squeezed him tight. “You scared the crap outta me.”

This was nice. He’d never object to waking up in bed with his naked boyfriend, and half-naked himself. Apart from…  Actually, not feeling so awesome.

Unsettling memories trickled back.

“How you doing?” asked Eddie. “That bastard drank waaaaay too—”

“M’fine.”

To be truthful, the whole right side of his body felt like it’d been slammed by a truck. He lifted his bandaged arm to drape around Eddie’s shoulders and struggled to disguise the effort. 

“Nothing the usual routine won’t fix.” He smirked. “You know, water, spinach, lentils. Gourmet steak dinner with red wine.”

Eddie planted a sizzling kiss on Steve’s cool, sticky brow. “Only wish we could afford that for you, Sweetheart.”

“I’ll take sex for dessert. Plus we don’t have to pay for your food.”

Steve’s fingers had barely touched the fresh bandaging on his throat, before Eddie snatched them, kissed them, tucked them away again.  “You’ve lost too much already.”

“But—”

“I can go a night without feeding, Baby.”

“If you skip dinner, you’ll be grouchy and pathetic in the morning.” 

What Steve really wanted was to wrestle Eddie into submission. He’d tease and goad him into unleashing that vampire super-strength, grappling till Steve was the one pinned to the mattress and then...

Annoyingly, Steve was too feeble to even try and sit, so he sneered. “What happens if I’m dumb enough to get jumped again tomorrow? Or Robin, or Dustin, or any of the kids? As much as I hate to admit it, they need a tame vamp looking out for them, way more than they need me these days”

“Answers still ‘no way in Hell.’ Which I’m heading to for sure, but at least the music will be—”

“Don’t change the subject. Look, I nearly got my arm torn off offering that moron my wrist. All to save the best bite for you.”

Eddie stroked Steve’s hair. “Emotional blackmail ain’t gonna work tonight.”

Good job I’ve learned to play dirty.

This time, Steve ripped the dressing from his neck before Eddie could stop him, revealing the twin fang marks Eddie left last night.

And every night.

“What? Why!?! Don’t want…” Eddie flinched away. “I don’t like this, Stevie.” 

Steve snaked his good arm up, threaded his fingers through Eddie’s lush tresses. He tugged Eddie down toward his throat.

As if on cue, a drop of hot blood trickled from the barely healed punctures. A groan shook through Eddie. He clamped onto Steve’s lifeblood, incisors piercing deep.

Steve bit his lip against a keening, desolate cry. Love didn’t only suck—it stung like a bitch, and the tide of Eddie’s hair smothered him. Still, the slip of Eddie’s tongue against his blood-slickened skin always flipped him out, in a not-entirely-bad way. From the corner of his eye, he strained to catch glimpses of Eddie drinking.

Gnnng! Too damn hot.

Soon, little stuttering gasps escaped him, as he teetered on a knife-edge. Damn, if Steve wasn’t already so shattered, so woozy, he’d be so up for sex after this…

…until he wasn’t. It hurt too much.

Eddie ripped himself free, jumped from the bed, and was  gone.

Steve lay there, trembling violently, his blurry vision further misted with tears. Completely at Eddie’s mercy. 

I’m safe. I'm safe.

Soon after he grew too weak to keep his eyes open, he sensed the skitter of featherlight fingertips. Eddie had returned to bandage him up again. Then Eddie gathered him into his arms and roused him with a tender kiss.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” mumbled Steve, lips moistened with his own blood.

“Holy shit, Stevie.” Eddie stuck out his tongue, kinda silly. His eyes shone with fear. “I’m a vampire. A goddamn evil, blood-sucking predator. One day, I might not be able to stop.”

“That’s bull.” No evil could overcome a nature as sweet and soft as yours. “I trust you.” I trust our love. Steve nuzzled into his favourite tattooed parts of Eddie’s chest.

I’ll save the last bite for you. Always.

He slipped away, warm and cherished in Eddie’s arms, and into a deep and dreamless sleep.

...

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3.)

[coimbrabertone]

Formula One Was Good Actually?

Yes.

I can't believe it either, but I did actually enjoy the F1 race this weekend.

Okay, so, just going to get the elephant out of the room now - the fact that Lando Norris won instead of Max Verstappen is doing a lot of heavy lifting here, but it's not just because of that - and now that I've said that, I'm going to talk about why I enjoyed F1 yesterday at the 2024 Miami Grand Prix.

Full disclosure, I didn't watch the sprint and it doesn't sound like I missed much.

In the race, however, something interesting happened...Max didn't break the field right away. He pulled a bit of a gap on Leclerc, yes, but Piastri in third was quick, and he managed to overtake Leclerc for second pretty early on, even started gaining.

Once Max pit, it was Piastri in the lead by a pretty comfortable margin, then Sainz, then Norris. I tuned into the race around this point since NASCAR at Kansas - also a banger of a race, I might get into that later actually - was in a rain delay. Piastri and Sainz made their pitstops, Lando was actually going quick - IIRC he had the fastest lap at this point - but still, it looked to me like Max had a clear path to the lead for the umpteenth time.

Kevin Magnussen, attempting to overtake hometown driver Logan Sargeant, hit the Williams and sent him into the barrier gearbox first. Logan was out on the spot, Kevin continued, and the safety car came out.

Now, maybe Bernd Maylander was just used to slotting in ahead of Max Verstappen - and can you blame him after these last three years? - but the safety car picked up Max in second, while Lando was free to run to the delta. Everyone knew he was going to make a free pitstop at this point, but with the rest of the field stuck behind the safety car, the question became...is Lando going to put a hole lap on the field?

Well, fortunately or unfortunately, race control waved the field by the safety car before any shenanigans could occur, so when Lando made his stop and came out on fresh hards, he caught the safety car with the rest of the field directly behind.

This is where things got fun.

On the restart, full disclosure, I thought Lando blew it and let Max Verstappen get too close...only for the Red Bull to fail to get the pass done on the start-finish straight. Lando kept the lead...and pulled away for the rest of the race.

Meanwhile, Verstappen spent the first part of the post-SC portion of the race breaking out of Leclerc's DRS range, while behind, Piastri and Sainz where showing that DRS wasn't a free pass this time out. And that's really what I liked about this race - the fact that, lap after lap, Sainz would get DRS on Piastri and would try and pass going into turn eleven...and it wouldn't be enough.

Unfortunately, Sainz eventually just decided to barge his way through and sent Piastri into the pits for a new front wing and fresh tyres, but the idea was there. DRS was an overtaking assist, but it wasn't a free overtake - and that's how I believe it should be.

That being said, as Piastri showed once he was on fresh tyres, a faster car could get by, so he charged through the likes of Albon and Ricciardo, taking fastest lap and eventually finishing thirteenth after having come out of the pits nineteenth. Sainz would get a five second penalty post race.

We had a new winner in Lando Norris, the winner started from fifth on the grid, it was a Grand Prix in the United States at a pleasant afternoon timeslot for me, and for the first time, it felt like it lived up to the hype of Miami.

Now there was also another thing, and it's so divisive that I'm not even sure if I should talk about it in this blog, but it's that Donald Trump was in attendance. He was a guest of Muhammad Ben Sulayem and Liberty Media, they took him through the McLaren garage, he posed with Zak Brown outside the garages, and he took a photo with Ben Sulayem and Lando Norris post-race. Not only that, but David Croft, in his race winning call went "On a weekend where McLaren has welcomed an ex-President into their garage, it's Norris who trumps Verstappen!"

So...in the eyes of some people, Norris' first win is forever going to be associated with a divisive ex-President who is one: subject to various legal proceedings in a number of states, and two: is running for office yet again. I hate that for Norris.

I'm not getting into the politics, I'm not making a judgment either way, please don't use this as a place to rant about your particular political views, I'm just saying it sucks that, a day after this guy's first win, I'm still seeing people talk about a guy who was a guest in the paddock rather than the guy who actually won the race.

It must suck for your first win to be at the center of people's political and moral arguments one way or another. I wish it wasn't a topic of conversation coming out of this race.

So yeah, I got to watch an F1 race I enjoyed for the first time in awhile, I even watched some of the post-race content, and by the time that was wrapping up, it was time for NASCAR.

I really like 1.5 mile triovals and Kansas is one of the best ones. We had moments of three, four, and even five wide in that race, and at the end of it all, we got the closest winning margin in NASCAR history. 0.001 seconds for Kyle Larson in the #5 HendrickCars Chevrolet over Chris Buescher in the #17 Castrol Edge Ford Mustang. I was rooting for Buescher, I desperately wanted Ford to get their first win of the season, but seeing that, I just had to throw my hands up and say it was a good race.

So, while there wasn't any MotoGP or Indycar this weekend, F1 and NASCAR managed to give me a pretty good Sunday of racing. I'm pleasantly surprised and I'm glad I can say that.

I hope McLaren can keep the forward momentum going and actually challenge Red Bull somewhat consistently, and I hope Ford can snap their winless streak in NASCAR sometime soon.

[confusedpandabear]

Noctifa smut prompt! Sex in the Regalia hehe ;)

DISCLAIMER: This is fanfiction kids, don’t try this at home!

Tifa’s never driven something as new as the Regalia, or anything near as fast as it too.

So she hesitates, almost lets the set of keys slip through her fingers when Noctis tosses them to her over the bonnet, grinning widely at the surprised look on her face.

“I call shotgun, yeah?”

He’s kidding around because it’s just the two of them: date four and he’s already letting her drive his precious car, which is probably a good sign but make or break in a new and budding relationship, depending on whether she manages to crash it into a tree and kill the both of them. 

Tifa sent him a wry smile.

“You sure?”

“Of course,” Noctis shrugged, sliding into the passenger side. He leaned over the gearbox to open the door of the driver’s side for her too, ever the gentleman.  “I know you’re a good driver, Tifa.”

Tifa likes to think so too but she doesn’t really feel like it, driving 10mph under the speed limit because all she can concentrate on is Noctis’ unrelenting gaze on her, his attention so undivided that it has her needlessly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and saying:

“Noctis.”

“Hm?”

“You’re distracting me.”

A flash of white teeth revealed his amusement.

“I’m not doing anything but looking at you looking very sexy while driving my car. If you’re distracted, that’s your prerogative.”

Tifa scoffed, appearing unaffected, but the next time she rolled the Regalia to a stop at a red light, she reached over and palmed at his jaw to reorient his face away from hers, which had them both laughing. 

Conceding defeat, Noctis fiddled with the sound system between them, tuning them into a local radio station and then resting a hand on her upper leg. 

The contact is natural, idle for him and them, and Tifa wouldn’t have paid it any mind until she could feel his thumb tracing the line of elastic at the top of her stockings, then his fingers dipping between her thighs.

“Noct—?”

“—Eyes on the road, Tifa,” he said, smirking when she glanced at him with upturned brows. 

It was dusk and she had just turned them onto the highway, where there was no one else and nothing but an endless road through the desert for miles.

Still, it was no excuse to be touching her like that while she was driving, turning her knuckles white from her iron grip on the steering wheel as his hand strayed closer to the arousal pounding between her thighs. 

The more she tried to ignore it, the further his fingers travelled up her skirt and to her eternal horror, Tifa felt her hips cant towards them, her pulse skittering at their proximity. 

The shift, as minute as it was, does not get past Noctis when he finally lets them brush over her centre, feather-light at first, then the second time more purposeful, again and again until he pushes her underwear to one side to seek out the soft wetness that greets him and—

—And that’s when Tifa abruptly swerves the car into a lay-by, causing him to withdraw his hand to maintain his balance against the car’s interior until she screeched them to a halt.

She turned to him and huffed out angrily:

“Noctis! Are you insa—?!”

But he swallows her reprimand with his mouth on hers, unfastening his seatbelt in the process and quicker than she thought humanly possible.

He launched himself towards her, vaguely registering Tifa’s tiny yelp in surprise and her hands carding through the hair on the back of his head.

The position was uncomfortable; Noctis having to lean over the gear stick with one hand braced on the headrest behind her as the other buried itself between her legs once more.

It didn’t matter though because a kind of madness had taken over, a kind of desperation that had their tongues tangling and their hands grappling and Tifa grinding herself against the heel of Noctis’ palm as his fingers slipped and curled and worked their magic inside of her.

He manages to coax an orgasm so hard that it knocks the wind out of her, leaving her gasping and completely consumed by a surging tide of sensation engulfing her entire body.

Noctis drew back just in time to watch her fall apart, easing her through it, letting her ride it out on his fingers and taking advantage of her parted mouth to bite her bottom lip between his teeth and suckle the pain away with his tongue.

“Noctis…” she whines with hooded eyes, all weak and dazed but far from fully satisfied.

He knew what she was thinking.

“Take this back to mine?” he said but he shouldn't have wasted his breath, when Tifa put the car into gear to make a sharp U-turn and sent the tyres screeching into the night. 

[artist-issues]

I’ve been watching the Planes movies quite a bit recently (positive perils of having younger siblings lol) and to me Dusty Crophopper’s character progression from his racing movie to the Fire and Rescue movie feels so odd.

like we go from this guy who’s sometimes really confident in his skills, and sometimes doubts them, but is overall humble about them and is surprised when other people who aren’t his friends like him/believe in him.

BUT THEN in Planes Fire and Rescue (which I might say morally was a ‘worse’ movie, but I loved the setting and new characters more) he is SOOOOO arrogant and prideful, especially towards Blaze. Especially that scene when Skipper, Sparky, Chuck and Dotty just told Dusty that his gearbox was gone, and he disregarded Blaze’s orders and was super prideful and didn’t care at all about his or Blaze’s safety. And while he does ‘redeem’ himself by saving the RV’s later, it doesn’t feel like that specific character issue was never resolved.

idk, I might be blowing this out of proportion a bit, I haven’t had this theory for more than 10 mins and might change my mind after thinking about it more, but i was wondering if you had any thoughts. (Great analysis of Mufasa and Silva btw!)

I haven’t seen Planes yet! The animation geek in me knows that Christian Disney animator Mark Henn pitched the original idea for Planes, but then they told him it was too much like Cars, and passed on it…but then went ahead and made it without letting him direct later on. So that sort of left a bad taste in my mouth. But I remember being surprised and impressed by the trailer for the “fire & rescue” one because it looked so dramatic, back when it was coming out. So I’ll watch them and then come back and see what stuck with your thoughts! I’m sure you’re not blowing it out of proportion

[theviolenttomboy]

Found this interesting segment off of an Anime News Network post about Nintendo:

This past week, there was a lot of news about Nintendo and their corporate policies; their new employee rate is clocked in at an astounding 98.8%, which isn't just high for the industry. That's an unprecedented high for Japan in general. There was also the development that the upcoming Super Mario Wonder wasn't developed with a deadline in mind—developers were allowed to iterate on ideas and metaphorically throw stuff at the walls to see what stuck. The result is, well, Super Mario Wonder. And let's not forget, this year's The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom was also delayed by a whole year in the name of polishing the base game—the result is absolute programming witchcraft, courtesy of how well the ridiculously-intricate Fuse mechanic works on a Nintendo Switch (while "bigger" open-world games can't even keep their physics in line). Also worth pointing out is that Nintendo was willing to start from scratch with Metroid Prime 4 because they didn't like how the game was coming along in development. Nintendo is the result of a studio actually giving a rip about what they put out and making sure the people they hire are well-cared-for while they do it, not just in the office but also in their personal lives—while Japan doesn't formally recognize same-sex marriage, Nintendo extends the same benefits to developers in same-sex partnerships as they do to heterosexual ones. (For the record, Nintendo isn't perfect, and I look forward to Nintendo of America cleaning up their act with regards to their contractors.) Smarter people than myself have also pointed out that, unlike many American studios, Nintendo rarely—if ever—sees the kinds of mass layoffs that the likes of Activision-Blizzard see. The people working on Super Mario Wonder likely include many veteran staff who have worked at Nintendo long enough to get a grip on how a Mario game should "feel," and in turn are allowed to offer advice to younger, newer developers who know they don't have to worry about their job security. Compare this to the likes of EA, who so callously lay off key staff, including some of their most celebrated writers. While the peanut gallery explains how "underpowered" the Switch is, Nintendo has quietly written the book on sustainable production. (It's a real shame that there isn't much they can do about GAME FREAK.) I've seen some folks claim that Nintendo can only do all of these because of how much money they have. And this is valid... to a point. I can see Supergiant Games (creators of Hades and Bastion), Coldwood Interactive (creators of Unravel) or rose-engine games (creators of Signalis) not being able to just dump a ton of work to start all over again on a current project, or just delay a game for an entire year because they wanted to make sure all their "T"s were crossed. But if we're talking the usual American stand-bys—Gearbox Studios, BioWare, NetherRealm Studio, Infinity Ward—then you can miss me with that load of bullcrap. As always, the late Satoru Iwata taking a 50% pay cut during Nintendo's lean years is a big, fat black eye to the rest of the gaming industry that loves to report their record-breaking profits before dropping the axe on whole chunks of their workforce. And it's a tremendous indictment to the likes of Bobby Kotick and other overpaid executives who sit atop these gaming studios.

[mercurygray]

‘a touch at the end’ prompt for Daphne and Mike.

Hope your idle hours in the airport mean you are headed somewhere fun!

Thanks, friend! Idle hours in the airport were actually spent coming home from a very fun work conference - back to the grind tomorrow, sadly. This was a fun prompt - although I'm not sure why I decided on present tense.

He hasn't planned on being here at all.

They've left him a little at sixes and sevens, here in Cairo. He's been debriefed about Stirling's capture, and the military intelligence people have taken his statement, but no one has really told him he can leave, and so he is simply hanging around the office, waiting for something he can't name - until he hears his name, from somewhere near the door.

"You need a chauffeur? Sadler here's an excellent driver, take him."

The Major evidently asking the question doesn't look like he believes that. "Can you handle a Bentley?"

A Bentley?! He could almost sing. "Handle anything you like, sir."

"Good. There's a dance tonight at Shepheard's and some fellows need driving from the consulate. There's a house car. Need a better uniform- see the man downstairs about getting some trousers, will you? And a shave," he adds, his lip turned up a little at the sight of Mike's hair.

"Of course, sir." SAS men pride themselves on being wild, but on balance, the beard is a small price to pay for the chance to drive a Bentley.

And what a magnificent beast it is! The car is beautiful, black and trim and purring like a kitten even here in the desert. Someone takes a great deal of care with this engine, and he treats it with the respect it so rightly deserves, easy on the clutch and gentle with the gearbox. This is a thing of beauty, and must be handled well. Stepping out at the consulate, Mike can see himself in the gleam of the door and stands just a little taller, his cream beret only a little rakish over his freshly trimmed hair. He didn't let the barber take the whole beard - it's just been trimmed back into obedience for the evening to keep him presentable.

There are a pair of men in tailcoats waiting near the door, and a woman in red, already a little tipsy, to judge by the way she's leaning against one of the men, glancing back into the well-lit entryway of the building. "Well, come on, you, or we'll be late!"

And as the last woman comes out the door, Mike's heart falls. He should have known she'd be here.

She is a thing of beauty, too.

But here she can't be Daph, at least to him. She's not even Daphne - she's Miss Markham-Reed, brilliant and bejeweled with her diamante clips and dancing shoes, ready to be the darling of the ballroom and a whole host of men who are universes above him in rank. These are the men she should be dancing with every Friday night, men with Honorable next to their names and estates waiting for them at home. And she's still too good for all of them.

One of her escorts calls her name, and she laughs like anything, eyes sparkling in that way that only she has - until she sees him, and the laughter stops.

He springs into action, opens the door. "Let me get that for you, Miss." He holds out his hand so the drunk woman can hold on as she climbs in, balancing her evening bag and her dress against the champagne she's already drunk.

"Oh, steady on, Eloise," one of the men says, climbing in after her and laughing as she rearranges herself on the seat. "One can't have too much fun before the party starts, you know." Daphne carries up the rear of the group, her own evening bag sea-glass green, dress long and slinking, like a wave.

"Thank you, Corporal." For a moment, she's holding his hand, too, and they lock eyes, the moment somehow more intimate than a kiss.

"Careful, miss. Your dress." He carefully picks up the beaded tailing and tucks it up into the door, his hand just barely brushing her leg, the silk of the stocking on her ankle. In another universe he'd be beside her in the backseat, black-tie and tails, hand fully up the long column of her dress. (He's taken her out of dresses like that before, hands careful on the beading, the silk of her precious stockings.) But tonight is not his night - he is in her world, and not she in his.

"Well, come on, man, we haven't got all night," one of the men drawls from the back seat.

"Of course, sir," Mike replies, shutting the door and stepping around to the front of the car. "Shepheard's, sir, was it?"

Her three companions are loud and excited in the backseat all the way to the hotel, quite content to treat him as an extension of the car itself, an automaton barely worth noticing. But every time he glances in the mirror, her eyes are still there, still following his.

There's a long queue of cars when they arrive, long enough to make you wonder if there's even a war on when there's a party like this on offer, but half the men are in uniform and there's still a searchlight on the roof to remind everyone the Germans could come at any time, if they liked.

"Will you wait here, do you think?" she asks, sounding disinterested as he gives her another hand up, out of the back seat and into the warm, loud circle of light outside the hotel, music drifting out from the lobby into the street. "I don't know if I'll stay."

"For as long as you like, miss," he says, anonymously efficient, and the thought gives him hope. She'll pass through many hands tonight, but at the end, she'll still be his to take home, to touch the way the others can't, and that's all that matters to him.

[wozadogtor]

STORY TIME

So, context, i work in boarding kennels, we look after peoples dogs when theyre on holiday/renovating/etc and such. Couple weeks ago i get this call from a very, very European accented woman who wants to board ten (10!) dogs in our kennels and needs it urgently, however this is a holiday period and i genuinely just cant do that. You know? Talk about it with my boss and theyre like. No. However this lady doesnt let up, shes calling us all god damn week until eventually my boss caves and tells me theyre figuring out a quote that will hopefully scare them off because, ten dogs, thats not gonna be cheap.

I tell them in that call ill call back at 12pm to give them a quote.

TEN MINUTES LATER, I get another call, this time from the local council who are trying to confirm im picking the dogs up at 12pm. And im like, fuck, fuck, this is a council job now, we aren't really in a position to be saying no to the council, need to like, suck up to them bigly if we want some upcoming things approved. You know how it is. Minor thing, the council lady insisted i confirm I wont sell the dogs (red flag) which is weird, but sure. So i quickly call my boss and inform them, we agree "fuck it 100/day 10 per dog" which is about break even for us, i call them back with that quote, arrange to pick the dogs up at 12pm. Now, i was just gonna go down in my car, since she had said they're puppies and I'm thinking, "alright her dogs had a litter and she doesn't know what to do about it, should be easy enough". But the evil spider that lives in my brain tips me off that you need help and backup and explicitly you need to bring a woman because you are so big+scary. So, i call my sister whos more than happy to do this for a 20. She brings her bf, and we go get the dogs.

The address they give us is a public beach. Red flag number 4 or something at this point. But we get there and these dogs are in fact puppies. 4 month old puppies. They're all fairly well grown kelpies (sheepdog). I am THANKING my lucky stars i brought backup, because these dogs are just, running around the place unrestrained on the beach. It takes us a good ten to fifteen minutes to wrangle the little bastards into the car and my help is playing wackamole in the back of my station wagon to keep them from jumping into the front and doing puppy things to my gearbox. The owners are living out a van and just, letting the dogs loose i guess. It's a short drive, easy enough, but we get her to sign the forms and that's that. We have the 9 puppies and their mom now. I told them their cutoff is the 28th of october and they agree. NONE of these dogs are vaccinated btw so we have to do isolation protocols on them.

NEXT DAY, she turns up. Wants to walk her dogs. Off leash, on the road. We pretty bluntly tell her no, and she's like. "but you said i could visit" and it's like. Yeah, i did say you could visit, not fucking kill them on a main road. So, while our backs are turned because as i said, holiday period being busy, there was another client there. She just, walks into the kennels, lets them out. Fucking, chaos. I can't have these UNVACCINATED dogs running around getting close and personal with the other clients dogs, so we shuffle her and the dogs into a little side alley we have and tell her to stay put. She can't really get anywhere from there anyway. We deal with our other clients, come back, and since its feeding time we thought we'd get the puppies back into their pens via food bribe. She wants to do it, and insists on feeding other dogs/doing the dishes. And its like. Lady, do you jump over the counter and make your own sandwich at the cafe. What the fuck ARE you DOING. We sort this out, an understanding of sorts, that she can't just do-that. So she turns up the next day and does it again.

At this point, I'm exasperated. I don't WANT to call the cops because fuck that and + also they'd deport her. So i work out that she can come during closing hours and walk her dogs, on the property, in the carpark/driveway, and i'll close the gate to the property so there's no danger. I also point out the dogs cannot go into the nearby grassy paddocks because it is a) lambing season, there's lambs, puppy dogs stupid and will hurt them or get hurt by the angry mother sheep. b) snake season, its been unseasonably warm and they're out there. Not likely, but if you find one you're down at least one dog. And c) Private property, fuck off. So, she turns up twenty minutes before we close and demands to do it there and then. I make her wait, so i go close the gate up front and let her have her dogs to play, give them a few toys/balls etc. Come back from locking the front gate and they're in the paddock. Fuck my entire life. Thankfully I had forseen this and moved the sheep prior (lol) but snakes are still a concern. It's, fine. It's fine. Nothing happens. But now i have to like, legitimately ban her from the premesis. She whines, but understands that she's fucked up.

Anyway, next few days go smooth. She doesn't come by again. Dogs behave quite well when shes not around even. It's going well. A couple of the skinnier dogs even start gaining weight (red flag). I get another call from the council. This one is more uh, serious. It's just the ranger, not the cops, dog cop if you will, so I know this guy and am fine working with him. But apparently the people who own this dog are in some deep DEEP shit. The lady i've been talking to isn't the owner, but a friend of theirs. And apparently, the actual owner has been caught in Melbourne and is in the process of being deported for visa fraud charges. She has been bouncing between two different council areas for the better part of the year by now with alllll the dogs in tow for the latter part of it, to avoid getting caught. But she was so delinquent* in one of these council areas that she got her ass BANISHED from it, and suddenly she dumped the dogs on her friend and fled. And has just been caught. The council is very interested in where they're taking the dogs when she picks them up. We give them the date and time they're picking them up. They'll be there to offer a hand moving them to the property and gently tell them that if they don't surrender them there will be legal concequences. You know, trying not the fuck these people over with a 10k+ fine.

*breaking rental leases by subletting to 5-6 people (plus 10 dogs) in studio apartments zoned for 1-2 people. 10 or so times. Some of them informal charity agreements where she told them they were facing homlessness (more on this later) and needed somewhere to stay and please help etc etc.

Day of pickup comes, we've been doing some private digging ourselves. They've been going around on facebook community groups begging for a place to stay with their ten dogs. Surprising i know. Someones agreed to do it on their suburban lot, which, super illegal to have that many dogs on a property like that. Rangers are aware. So they get here, and aren't going straight to the property, they're going to the vet first. To get microchipped, not vaccinated. The rangers ask the obvious question, why no vax. Quote; "they're healthy dogs they don't need it". Rangers raise an eyebrow at this but go along with it assuming the vet will just vaccinate them anyway given how obvious it is they're being surrendered. They come into our office to pay the bill, happily do so, very thankful we took them in, etc. Pay on one of those platinum cards they only give incredibly rich people. Hello. What the fuck. Why do you have one of THOSE. Turns out, French nationals who have very rich parents and basically have no concept of repsonsibility or concequences. They want to keep the dogs because they think they can sell them to a farm for big bucks. They can't, these are untrained and they have no papers, basically any sheep station will laugh at them if they try.

So, after this, it's officially not our problem. But my boss is nosy and wants to be kept in the loop. We find out from the rangers that the vet visit didn't exactly go as planned. As the vet, believing their story about being nearly homeless and needing help soso bad, tells them quote; "If the council could sieze the dogs they already would have, you're safe". You. Fucking. Moron. So armed with this knowledge they go back to this suburban residential property, the rangers tail them an hour or two later and report them for having ten dogs on a property. Which, duh! Like, you can't do that. We can, but we live on a 4 acre lot. This is a tiny little surfies shack in a residential neighborhood. The owner of the property who very generously helped them out with their situation was the one that copped the 10k fine. The French nationals surrendered the dogs and have since vanished. The dogs have been vaccinated, desexed, etc. And as of writing half have been rehomed. Very in demand, kelpie puppies.

The end. The moral of the story is never work in this industry.

[primevein]

The Prime of His Youth: Book II: Quest for Fire: Ch32: Old Friends

Jack had Arcee stop, and he climbed from off her back. He pulled the scanner out of his inner jacket pocket as Arcee transformed. He looked, trying to follow the where the scanner was pointing. It wasn't until he looked up, seeing scratches on the ceiling.

"What do you see?" Arcee asked.

"Claw marks?" Jack asked. He then looked at the scanner before looking at the ceiling. He pointed at a spot. Arcee transformed her right hand into her longshot blaster and aimed. She fired, at first once, and then a few times more. A box fell out. She leapt up. transforming her hand back as she caught it. She landed beside Jack, carrying what similar to an Energon cube.

Jack looked distant for a moment. "Something the matter?" Arcee asked him.

"I don't know?" Jack asked, "I thought it would be harder." He then pointed Arcee down. She kneeled down and opened the box. Inside were a number of ampules with what looked like autoinjectors. Jack then closed the box and held it. "If it's like this, we can hit another couple of points before we head back to base."

* * *

They stood in the base with their dozen-box stash of innoculators.

"We're not getting shots?" Miko asked.

"First, we do not know what kind of effect it would have on Humans." Roxana stated, "Even with with the injections."

"And?" Miko asked.

"The injections last for a cycle." Roxana stated.

"Meaning?.." Miko asked.

"Meaning we have to wait for Ser-Ket to get pissed off." Jack replied, "Then we have to pick a fight."

"It's amazing how he can make an epic showdown boring." Sludge stated.

"I know!" Miko shouted.

"Rip - her - wings - off." Grimlock stated.

Miko gave Jack a deep, expectant look. "What?" Jack asked.

"I don't know, thought it might ruin your peacenicking." Miko stated.

"There's one important thing Optimus told me." Jack stated, and paused, "Some villains can't be reformed. Ser-Ket is the biggest thing stopping the Dinobots. We have to stop her."

"Not, you know, reform?" Miko asked.

"You think you can pull it off?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, that's not my strong suit." Miko stated, and pointed at him.

"Thank you for having faith in me, but I doubt we could capture her." Jack simply replied.

"So, what's the plan?" Miko asked.

"Arcelia has some shock sensors." Jack replied, "Windblade will set them up. When Ser-Ket gets closed, we strike a target. She attacks, falls into our ambush. Roxana will have us innoculated, so, we can actually fight her, despite the ToxEn. Hopefully by that time, the safe passage will be ready to New Kalis. We can then kidnap the Forged and Foundlings, and hopefully break their indoctrination."

"He manages to take the wind out of my wings." Swoop stated.

"Prudence." Arcee stated.

"Want - fight - now." Grimlock stated.

"Does it look like I'm stopping you?" Jack asked, and Grimlock and Slug gave him a curious look. "We'll contact you when Ser-Ket's in play. We can them meet up and pick a target."

* * *

Ratchet pulled up to the house in New Kalis and paused. The doors opened and Knockout stepped out. "Get your rusted old gearbox in here."

Ratchet drove into the house as Knockout stepped aside. "I honestly wasn't sure what to expect." As he rolled in he saw a functioning lab setup.

Bumblebee walked up to him, "When he called us, he wasn't sure we would have a lab. Through the power of him being Jack, with some help from the Elite Guard and this fair city, we have a safe route between here and the Dinobot base."

"Dinobots?!" Ratchet's rusted voice asked. "I half thought they were rumours and legend. Though, thinking about it, Grimlock was always... I honestly can't think of a polite way to put it."

"Loose cannons?" Knockout asked.

"Yes." Ratchet stated.

"Brutal savages?" Knockout continued.

"Yes."

"Apparently they are even worse after Shockwave got through with them." Bumblebee replied. "Let's get you unloaded."

* * *

Finally unloaded, Ratchet transformed and looked around. He let out a disappointed sigh.

"What's the matter?" Knockout asked, "You're not that old."

"THAT old?" Ratchet asked, "Do you have any idea how?.."

"Anything we can help you with?" Knockout asked.

"It's just... I hoped... I would see..."

"Over here!" Raf shouted. Ratchet looked over to see him standing on a Cybertronian console, waving at him. A smile immediately appeared on Ratchet's face as he walked over. "The lab here has come quite a ways." Raf said. He looked down and then up, and his glasses automatically adjusted themselves on his face.

"Still, I'm not too old that they could have called me." Ratchet uttered.

"The plan was to wait until we could get you a lab to work in." Raf said.

"Until we had the safe corridor, we couldn't make the most use out of you." Bumblebee stated.

"I still could have helped." Ratchet asserted.

"How much to you like dodging Insecticon swarms?" Knockout asked, and Ratchet just grumbled.

"We also didn't get the newcomers." Bumblebee stated, and pointed at the freed scientists.

"And they are?"

Gella walked up to him, "Were enslaved by Shockwave. We were lucky to get discovered before they blew the lab up." She put on a forced smile.

"You were what?" Ratchet asked, "What is Jack doing?"

"From the sounds of it," Bumblebee stated, "smash and grab. The whole point of this is to find a way to break their brainwashing.

"Break it?!" Overland shouted, "Undo it!"

"Heal it." Gella stated.

Ratchet slowly nodded his head.

"The big bad is Ser-Ket." Knockout stated, "If you think the Dinobots were boogey-men, Ser-Ket was... is... even worse. She was surgically altered to adopt a form similar to a Predacon, and breathes ToxEn."

"Nooooo." Ratchet gasped.

"We have an injection!" Overland shouted, and turned back to his work.

"Injection?" Ratchet asked.

"Over there." Raf said, and pointed at the stack of boxes. Ratchet walked over and opened it up. He pulled out one of the phials.

"Autoinjectors?" Ratchet asked, and looked about, until he realized Gella was the one that wanted to answer.

"Originally to help Ser-Ket tolerate the ToxEn." Gella stated.

"Tolerate ToxEn?!" Ratchet asked, "Could this be an innoculation against ToxEn exposure?!"

In reply Gella just developed a cheshire grin.

"Leave it to Shockwave to take something like that and not use it to help anyone." Knockout stated, "Even, you know, his own side."

"He was probably afraid of it being used against him." Ratchet stated.

"I will admit I haven't always been... ethical..." Knockout stated, "But if we had a cure, every Decepticon medkit should have had one."

"Which is why you are an Autobot now." Raf said with a bright smile. Knockout slowly nodded.

"I do actually want to help people." Knockout asserted.

"It's a pleasure to actually work with you." Ratchet said, and offered him his hand. Knockout nervously took it and the two shook. Ratchet then turned to Gella, "Ratchet." he said.

"Gella." she said, and pointed to Overland, "That's Overland." she added, and turned to Angle Drive, "And the last is Angle Drive."

Angle Drive barely acknowledged his existence.

* * *

Sirenia stood over Jack and he turned to look up at her, "Ratchet has joined them in the lab." Sirenia said with a smile.

"Wish I could see him under better circumstances." Jack said.

"Would you prefer the Great War?" Arcee asked, and Jack shrugged.

"Either way, that means we can start, right?" Miko asked.

"Right." Jack stated.

Arcee turned and walked towards Roxana, who nervously turned to look at her. She looked her deep in the eyes before leaning in to give her a passionate kiss. "I'll need to borrow your shock prod."

Roxana just stood there, dumbstuck.

[gearboxmanufacturerahmedabad]

How Does Temperature Affect the Performance and Lifespan of Worm Reduction Gearboxes? 

In most situations, temperature can affect the performance of worm reduction gearboxes to a great extent. Thus, you must know how fluctuations in temperature may hinder both the proper function and long lifespan of these gearboxes. In this way, you can ensure their proper operation and longevity. Moreover, to make sure that your machines work perfectly, you must contact a reliable worm reduction gearbox near me.

So, let’s see the connection between temperature and worm reduction gearboxes.

Ways Temperature Can Affect the Performance and Lifespan of Worm Reduction Gearboxes

Temperature Can Affect Its Lubrication

Lubrication plays a strong role in reducing both damage and friction within worm reduction gearboxes. Temperature can affect the viscosity of the lubricant to a great extent. Moreover, it can affect its power to create a protective film, along with distributing evenly across gear surfaces.

When your machine has to work in high temperatures, this lubricant may become thin. Hence, your machine may face increased friction. In contrast, if your machine needs to work in low temperature, this lubricant may thicken. This can impede its proper flow and compromise the efficiency of lubrication.

Heat Dissipation Methods

It is vital to maintain the required operating temperatures within a worm reduction gearbox. Thus, you must opt for a few efficient heat dissipation procedures. If excessive heat is accumulated within a machine, it can affect its operations in several ways. Some of those are accelerating wear, degrading lubrication, and even reducing the overall performance of your gearbox.

Thus, you must try to choose some vital cooling methods. Some of those can be oil cooling, air cooling, or the use some other cooling devices to prevent overheating and regulate the temperature of your machine.

Thermal Expansion

The materials that are used in a worm reduction gearbox can face thermal contraction or expansion with fluctuations in temperature. This situation may lead to several types of changes in backlash, gear alignment, and even the overall dimensions of a gearbox.

Thus, you must not forget to consider these vital dimensional changes during both the design and installation procedures to ensure proper gear meshing. This can even prevent potential damage or even premature failure.

Thermal Stability Of The Elements

Both the lifespan and performance of a worm reduction gearbox depend a lot on the components’ thermal stability. The elements that are used in the construction of a gearbox must have notable thermal properties to face and withstand rapid variations in temperature without affecting structural integrity.

Thus, many choose to use high quality materials with low thermal expansion properties to create a highly efficient gearbox. Moreover, these gearboxes must have good heat-resisting power to ensure reliable operation while facing extreme heating conditions.

Seal Integrity

Fluctuation in temperature may affect the effectiveness of seals in a worm reduction gearbox. Seals like O-rings can maintain the right seal between gearbox elements and even stop the ingress of contaminants.

However, changes in temperature may expand the seals, or even contract them or make them to lose their resilience. Thus, all these can affect the sealing abilities of a gearbox and may lead to leaks.

Material Behavior

Fluctuation in temperatures may affect the material properties of a worm reduction gearbox. For example, at high temperatures, metal alloys may undergo softening and later deformation. This may result in reduced gear strength, premature wear and tear, tooth failure, etc.

Conclusion

Temperature may affect the performance and lifespan of a worm reduction gearbox quite strongly. High temperature may result in material expansion, breakdown of lubrication, increased wear and tear, and more. Thus, you must try to manage temperature as much as possible and work with only a reliable gearbox manufacturer India.

[vro0m]

I think we need to address first what we consider sabotage, because it doesn't necessarily mean crashing out a car for the sole benefit to the other (as crashgate). Some will say, and I include myself in this, that deliberately hindering a driver’s race can be considered sabotage because the mental side plays a huge part on a driver's career, and recency bias in f1 is a very real and old thing. Also it can happen from the team’s management down to your teammate.

Barrichelo's years at Ferrari is the first that came to mind. Being told to let Schumacher pass ‘for the championship’ on the last lap at the sixth race of a 17 races season in 2001.

Massa at COTA in 2012 had his gearbox cracked open to move Alonso up one place to get him on the clean side of the track.  

Prost says to this day Mclaren favored Senna over him in 1989 (the most recent he said was with Nico in 2020 I believe) and he says it wasn’t anything to do with the car but how he always had less time to prepare, more commitments, less emotional support (that can be debated)

Mclaren in 2007 was a mix of Spygate and Alonso wanting the team to force Lewis to run out of fuel so he could pass him in the wdc. He also paid engineers from Lewis’s side of the garage to ‘not work as they should’ (Ron Dennis has confirmed that)

And those were the ones I remember from the top of my head, there are older ones for sure and there’s surely more on teams using their drivers against the other when even not in a real fight.

Now, to say “did in fact end very badly for everyone involved proving that it does not have benefits” on crashgate? Alonso was the sole person benefited by it and he’s racing til this day, Briatore is at Alpine, Pat Symonds came back to f1 in 2011 and is today a fundamental part of the Andretti project to get into f1.

Hey thank you for coming back to me with this. You're right that there's an issue of definition at heart here.

For example I don't think giving team orders even if considered unfair is sabotage.

That Massa thing I did not know about. It wasn't "cracked opened" though they just decided to change it (although maybe that's what you meant and it's just my English falling short) and admitted the reason why to give Alonso who was in the title fight a better chance. It's ugly for sure and I wouldn't defend it. I'm not 100% I would call it sabotage but it's definitely what looks most like sabotage in your list.

I get your Prost point but many drivers have said such thing over their careers (including Lewis, Alonso, Nasr,...) and I personally take it with a grain of salt because the occam's razor version of it is they get beaten and can't admit it. Like you say it's arguable.

I will take your Alonso sabotaging Lewis point but what Dennis confirmed is that Alonso asked for them to sabotage Lewis, not that they did (he actually refused although Alonso threatened to blackmail him and that's why he came clean about spygate), nor that he paid the mechanics to do so. That part is conflated with something else which is that Priestly said Alonso would give HIS mechanics money over Lewis's (which they ultimately had to give to charity when the team caught up) not that he paid Lewis's mechanics to not work on the car. Even then this is a teammate sabotaging a teammate so imo doesn't really prove anything re my claim which was that teams don't have any incentive to sabotage their own drivers.

Yeah now things have settled down for the crashgate people but they did first very much got trialled for it which is a bit of a thing. There were serious consequences for the larger Renault group including the suspension of the launch of their electric cars and questioning of senior employees. The team lost their biggest sponsors. Even though they got overturned eventually (because they agreed to not work in F1 for a given time) they did get lifelong bans initially and it took several years for the matter to be settled and for them to be allowed to come back which does mean that they lost their jobs, even though they got jobs back since then. Briatore also lost his job as a football club director. Renault also got sued and condemned for libel by the Piquets which is still more money lost.

So yes, I would say it didn't end well and definitely did not benefit the team? It didn't do anything to Alonso's career which can be discussed but does nothing for the point I was making that it does not benefit the teams to sabotage their own drivers.